A Blog by Vicky Lorencen

Tomorrow, is the first blank page of a 365 page book. Write a good one. ~ Brad Paisley

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language And next year’s words await another voice. ~ T.S. Eliot

Dearest Readers,

My warmest wishes to you for a joy-filled holiday that lifts your spirits, gives you happy memories and provides you with time to be with those you love best.

We can look forward to welcoming in 2019 together. Let’s fill it with creativity and courage to try new things. And, as always, we’ll give each other encouragement all the year through.

Cheers, my little snap dragons!

I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.

So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Here we are friends, within winking distance of a new year. Maybe this was “your year.” The Universe washed you in warm waves of lavender infused dreams come true. Or maybe the year felt like a family of quarreling beavers with chronic eczema and a love of lutefisk with limburger took up residence under your bed. Perhaps–and I do hope–it was at least a patch of somewhere in between.

Whatever this year felt like to you, I want you to know I’m proud of you, my little sugar snap peas. You made it through and you’re here, reading a blog written by a goofy lady who just called you a legume as a term of endearment. You’re not on fire and you probably get to sleep indoors tonight. So, see? Things can’t be “that bad,” right?

Intermission: Year End Decompression Break

If you want, go ahead and pretend you’re still reading, but in actuality, you can imagine you’re snuggling a giggling Baby New Year on a porch swing. It’s 72 degrees (my personal favorite) and blissful, sun-soaked, honey scented peace surrounds the two of you. Ahhh.

Now, that you’re all squishy and at ease, I want you to do one last thing for me, if you don’t mind. Please read the list of wishes I’ve collected just for you. I can’t guarantee they’ll all come true–some of them are up to you–I hope they help you to finish this year with your chin up and heart happy.

Arrangement and photo by Vicky Lorencen

My wishes for you . . .

May you have a brave heart to exile manuscript excess, to say yes to [insert scary thing here] and even be excited about trying a new genre.

May you master the fine art of saying no in order to give yourself time to write—and not feel guilty about it.

May you inherit a tastefully decorated self-cleaning house with a self-cooking stove. (Give science enough time!)

May you have presence of mind like a butterfly net to consistently capture those seemingly silly, random thoughts and slippery ideas as soon as they light on your imagination.

May you be a sponge to absorb untried techniques, compliments and constructive feedback.

May you be a boomerang, able to return repeatedly for yet another try.

May you acknowledge even eensy progress and be undaunted by momentary gaps in your momentum.

Like this:

Congratulations to Linda Geiger! You are the winner of the Frog on Dime 6th Birthday prize package.

You will receive:

Your very own, one-of-a-kind doodle, made by yours truly, with your initials incorporated into the design.

A brand new notebook to capture your shiny ideas in the new year.

An assortment of creativity-inducing treats.

A 10-page critique of the manuscript of your choice.

My heartfelt thanks go to everyone who entered. I am deeply grateful for all of your kind, encouraging words. You gave me such a boost to hop into Frog on a Dime’s 7th year! You’re the best, my little cranberry tarts!

If you chase anything in life chase the things that get you excited about living. Chase the things that give you hope, happiness and a glimpse of a better life. Chase the things that make you want to be a better person. Chase the things that inspire you to think, create and live joyfully. Chase the things that reinforce in your soul that you can make a difference. Chase the things that make you want to transform your heart from selfish to selfless. When you chase that kind of storm you are chasing rainbows. ~ Shannon L. Alder

Like this:

I held my breath and with a shaky finger clicked “Publish” for my first post in December 2012. My intent was to fill a niche nothing else could–much like that little frog on a dime. I wanted to offer my own brand of encouragement, and maybe help you laugh and learn a bit along the way. Not exactly lofty goals, but to me, worth pursuing. I am delighted to have reached the six-year mark and will do my best to continue to add warmth and light to your day, my little blueberry scones.

To thank you for your kindness, comments and the encouragement you have given me over and over again, I want to give you an opportunity to win a thank you prize!

Enter for your chance to win this entire parcel o’ prizes:

*** Your very own, one-of-a-kind doodle, made by yours truly, with your initials incorporated into the design.

*** A brand new notebook to capture ideas in the new year or fill with your own doodles and drawings.

Like this:

I am thankful forUrban Dictionary. You have saved me from a galaxy of embarrassment.

I am thankful for librarians. So long as there are people who devote themselves to the tender loving care of books and protecting our access to information, I feel like we’ve got a reasonable chance at a smart and civil society.

I am thankful for friends who lie. There is absolutely no way that I can be as amusing and fabulous as you say I am. But I love you for saying it just the same.

I am thankful for the opportunity to revise. If only life always gave us that option.

I am thankful for the times I’m too naive to know I’m in over my head. It gives me the will to try things–like writing a novel–that would otherwise scare the Nutella out of me, if I knew better.

I am thankful for characters who will put up with me long enough to tell their stories. I am a literary glacier.

I am thankful for chances to present at schools and spend time with curious, inner-critic-less kids who love to read their stories to anyone with ears.

I am thankful for technology. I cannot imagine going back to a typewriter or pad and pen or quill and ink. It’s lovely to have those options, and I have friends who do, but how could I ever give up my darlings Find & Replace or the beloved Undo button. [Chills!]

I am thankful for hot tea. Steamy black tea with cream soothes my angsties and makes me sit to write at least long enough to enjoy the whole cup.

MOST MOST MOST of all, I am thankful for YOU. It’s a strain to imagine now, but there was a time when I didn’t know another soul who wanted to be a writer, much less, one who loves to write for children and is as sweet-sassy-magical as you, my little pumpkin tart!

Like this:

I am participating in a writing contest—You Are Enough—hosted by Positive Writer. The aim of the contest is to draft a blog post that will provide encouragement to fellow writers. Well, if you’ve ever visited Frog on a Dime, you know that’s what my hokey-pokey blog is all about. Regardless if I win, I hope this post energizes your creative spirit. (And that you find cookies in your cupboard.)

My husband likes to watch Prospectors on the Weather Channel. Prospectors follows real, modern-day diggers of gold and gem stones. I like The Voice, a reality show/singing competition. Recently, I recognized the two shows intersect.

Prospectors endure extreme cold, looming storm fronts and other dangerous conditions to find the prize—a smoky topaz, a ruby, an aquamarine or even gold. Judges on The Voice listen to some lackluster auditions while searching for someone with golden pipes. So, the singers and the smoky topaz are treasures. That’s the obvious comparison, but there’s something more.

Were the stones beautiful while still encased in layers of limestone? I would say, yes. It wasn’t the touch of a prospector’s pick or palm that made them precious. And what about the hopefuls who appear on The Voice? It’s certainly not the judge’s ears or their feedback that make those singers amazing. The vocalists were outstanding before they ever walked on stage.

Here’s what I want you to know, my fragile little tea cups—you and your writing have intrinsic value before you receive a single word of praise. Think of all of the painters and poets who never received acclaim during their lifetimes. How sad to think they thought of themselves as “almosts” and even failures. You don’t need to have your name on a dust jacket to be a writer of worth. Interested editors or agents are simply recognizing what’s already there—like a prospector uncovering a lump of turquoise or a judge discovering a brilliant performer. Okay, okay, you make a good point. Like the unearthed gemstones or a singer’s vocal range, your work (and gosh, yes, mine) could benefit from a good polishing to bring out its true luster. But just because something can be improved doesn’t mean it wasn’t extraordinary to begin with.

Yes, I can hear the b-b-b-BUT coming. But I waaaaant an agent to love my work. I waaaant an editor to offer me a contract. I waaaaant readers to send me fan mail. Of course you do (and so do I). That kind of validation is wonderful, but remember–your work isn’t valued because it’s recognized. It’s recognized because it’s valuable–regardless. And first and foremost, you have to recognize that for yourself, my little lemon square.

After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world. ~ Philip Pullman

Like this:

Every creative person is plagued by angsty imaginings from time to time. In the spirit of Halloween, allow me to ramp up the frequency with these truly haunting thoughts.

Kanye is named Poet Laureate for 2019.

Use of the Oxford Comma becomes law.

Your characters continue to talk to you, but they sound like Anthony Scaramucci.

Recommended word count for a picture book manuscript drops to 24 words. Short words.

Writing causes eyeball arthritis (and crows feet (around your nose).)

Editors insist on the return to printed and mailed manuscripts. Slush Mountain!

You fall in love with your first draft and refuse to revise it.

By Vicky Lorencen

You lose your taste for chocolate, Red Vines and grown-up beverages.

Before you nod off, you tell Alexa your unparalleled idea of a lifetime for safekeeping. She thought you were talking to someone else.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention develop a vaccine to prevent writer’s block. The shots are administered by Nurse Ratched‘s less sweet cousin with a raging case of poison ivy, Nurse Annie Wilkes (from Stephen King’s Misery, remember?)

You say you’re not scared enough yet? Read more haunting thoughts. If you dare!